Past Tense Love
by breathingfiredragons
Summary: Remy and Rogue have always had a toxic relationship, but after a mission goes horribly wrong, it finally burns out. Romy. One-Shot. A little something I came up in English. I will update X-Men: Classified as soon as I can.


Gambit absently charged and discharged cards, waiting the other X-Men to return. Having just been cleared by Dr. McCoy, he was left behind to guard the Mansion while they all went to fight a new big baddie. If they could just come back, he could relax-with his favorite white-striped _cherie,_ of course-and stop worrying. He new that they could handle themselves, of course, but still…

The familiar whirring of machines immediately alerted him to their return, and launching up from his comfortable seat, he dashed to the doors. Almost instantly, he knew something was wrong. Despair and grief hung in the air like a storm cloud, filling the room.

The first person he saw was Piotr, comforting a tear ridden Kitty as Dr. McCoy fixed what appeared to be a broken leg. Dr. Grey checked over Bobby, who stared darkly at the ground. He looked up at Gambit briefly before closing his eyes again and exhaling slowly. Gambit was about to ask what was going on when he heard a loud banging noise. Looking over, he saw Logan pounding at the wall with an anger that was quite frankly terrifying. Ororo rushed up to him, placing a soothing hand on his shoulder. For the briefest of moments, he seemed to break down, letting out a broken cry unlike himself. Then he growled, marching out of the room.

"'Ro?" Gambit asked, walking over to her. "what's goin' on?"

Even the normally calm weather witch had a tear stricken face. "We underestimated our enemy. They were much stronger than we anticipated. Weaponry beyond what we have…"

A sudden gut wrenching feeling stabbed through Gambit, impaling him like a sword. His eyes did a quick sweep of the room, and when they landed onto Ororo again, his voice was grave and nearly broken, clinging onto the smallest sliver of hope. "Ororo, where's Rogue?"

All hope disappeared in that instance as Ororo began to cry again, rain beginning to patter on the windows. "We were fighting, and they shot a laser at Kurt, but he didn't see it...she flew in front took the blast for him…"

"Non," his voice cracked, dread seeping through him like a poison. "Ororo, don't say it. Please don't say it."

"She didn't make it," thunder clapped in the background. "She was dead before she hit the ground."

"Non," he whispered, falling to his knees. A depression like he'd never known rolled across him, suffocating him.

Memories of her flashed through him. Her laugh, smile. Sitting on the couch with her, watching Netflix. The familiar sting of her powers when he tried to touch her. Pushing himself up blindly, He stumbled out of the room. He would never talk to her again, see her, hear her. Gambit could feel his legs moving, but he didn't know where he was going. She was filling his every pore, bit by bit, until he couldn't escape her. She was in everything he saw. It wasn't until he opened his eyes, actually breathed in and smelled the full force of her scent, he realized where he was.

The Blackbird. Blood stained the floor, chairs were broken. And when he looked up, he saw _her._ Lying on a bed, perfectly still. She looked afraid, but at rest. As if she'd known what she was doing and accepted it, along with all of the fear and uncertainty. All of the tears came pouring down Gambit's face. He usually prided himself on not losing his manliness, but this was just too much pain. It swallowed him whole, consuming him in a way that he had never known and was certain would never know again. Eating away at him until there was nothing left but emptiness.

"Rogue," he whispered, brushing a hair out of her face. "Anna-Marie," as a last ditch effort, he rested his hand gently upon her face. Nothing. She was cold, and empty. Gone.

Gambit punched the table beneath the bed until his skin broke. Kicked and threw chairs until he couldn't breath. "You left me," he said in a guttural tone. Animal like. Broken. "You knew that I was waiting for you, but you went and got yourself killed," Remy LeBeau sat down, grasping her hand between his own. "I know dat we've had our ups and downs. After Antarctica, I didn't dink dat I could look at you again. But I did. We moved on, and I was finally happy with you. Anna Marie, I love you," He squeezed her hand. "Loved you," he corrected himself. "I don' know what to do next."

Suddenly he stood up again, a second wave bursting through him. "I don' know what to do next, but I do know dat I ain' changing it to past tense. You're gone, you've left me all alone. But dat don' mean dat I don't love you anymore. Because I might be all alone, I might feel like it's eatin' me up inside and I might want to run and never look back, but dat don' mean dat I don' love you. I ain' changin' dat to past tense, because nothin's ever gonna stop me from lovin' you. Not time, not distance or problems or arguments, and certainly not death."

He turned around suddenly, exhausted and unable to look at her. Looking back again, he bent down and kissed her forehead. "I love you," he whispered into her hairline. He wished with all his heart and soul that there was something that he could do to fix this.

But he couldn't.

Anna-Marie, his other half, was gone.


End file.
